“Very likely the waves would bang us against the cliff. Don’t you remember how Ulysses clung to the rock?” “His hands were torn.” “Nearly drowned.” “Tired out.” “Thumped and breathless.” “Jolly!” “But I say! There’s one thing we’ve forgotten,” said Bevis. “If we smash our ship against a cliff like this she’ll go to the bottom--” “Well, that’s just what we want.” “Ah, but it’s not like rocks or shoals; she’ll go straight down, right under where we can’t get at her--” “All the better.” “But then our things will go down too--gun, and powder, and provisions, and everything.” “Put them on the island first and wreck ourselves afterwards.” “So we could. Yes, we could do that, but then,” said Bevis, imagining what would happen, “when the Pinta was missed from the harbour and did not come back, there would be a search, and they would think something had happened to us.” “I see,” said Mark, “that’s very awkward. What a trouble it is to get wrecked! Why can’t people let us be jolly?” “They must not come looking after us,” said Bevis, “else it will spoil everything.” “Perhaps we had better put the wreck off,” said Mark, in a dejected tone. “Do the island first, and have the wreck afterwards.” “It seems as if we must,” said Bevis, “and then it’s almost as awkward--” “Why?” “We shall have to come here in the Pinta, and yet we must not keep her here, else she will be missed.” “The ship must be here and at home too.” “Yes,” said Bevis; “she must be at New Formosa on the equator and at home in the harbour. It’s a very difficult thing.” “Awfully difficult,” said Mark. “But you can do it. Try! Think! Shall I tickle you?” “It wants magic,” said Bevis. “I ought to have studied magic more; only there are no magic books now.” “But you can think, I know. Now, think hard--_hard_.” “First,” said Bevis slowly, tracing out the proceedings in his imagination; “first we must bring all our things--the gun and powder, and provisions, and great-coats, and the astrolabe, and spears, and leave them all here.” “Pan ought to come,” said Mark, “to watch the hut.” “So he did; he shall come, and besides, if we shoot a wild duck he can swim out and fetch it.” “Now go on,” said Mark. “First, we bring everything and Pan.” “Tie him up,” said Bevis, “and row home in the boat. Then the thing is, how are we to get to the island?” “Swim,” said Mark. “Too far.” “But we needn’t swim all up the New Sea. Couldn’t we swim from where we landed that night after the battle?” “Ever so much better. Let’s go and look,” said Bevis. Away they went to the shore on that side of the island, but they saw in a moment that it was too far. It was two hundred yards to the sedges on the bank where they had landed that night. They could not trust themselves to swim more than fifty or sixty yards; there was, too, the risk of weeds, in which they might get entangled.